Angelfaced Marine Man Talk

Tacked to my wall is the black and white photo of a man's face. His left hand is draped across his cheek so you can see his wedding band, but his fingers do not hide his eye. In green sharpie is written A Face is Worth A Thousand Words. His lips are stamped with the word contempt. His brow furrowed with the word hurt in a scrawling cursive. His bottom lip is closed against his upper jaw with the word guilt below. His Adam's apple has fear written in capital letters, boldly. The crease between his nostril and the edge of his cheek has the tiny printing of the word disdain. In green, ego and pride are stamped across his eyes, fading in the dark of his pupils and becoming vibrantly colored once again as the edges of some letters rest atop the whites.
Today he was a brother next to him. I've tacked a printed photograph of Cpl. Andrew Marrari from BLT after sophomore year. He holds our 'guidon' in his right hand. The hood of his digicam jacket casts a shadow across his eyes. He is not smiling. But Marines rarely do. In this picture though, I know he is covering a smile with his bearing. His left hand hangs limply next to his thigh, no snapping to attention here. The grass behind him in the picture is covered in mud and new rain. The sky barely visible in the corner of the photograph is a hazy grey. The Evergreen trees of Morgantown's mountains are vibrant in the background. His olive drab nearly matches.
Women aren't the only ones who question themselves. No matter how strong the man is, there's probably something that makes him cry. Actually, I know there is. It's not a probably.
Something inside of Corporal made him hurt so badly that he hung himself. And everyday I wonder if anyone out there knew what hurt inside.

By tacking these two images above where I lay my feet every night, I am reminded to pray. And my prayer is this "Lord make straight the paths that crooked lie. Let me be a vessel for your grace to my brothers and sisters. Allow me to be the one people will take their masks off for. I don't need to know everything. I just want others to know how much you love them. Because you love me. Ease the pain in his parent's hearts. Let them see you in his memory. Let them seek YOU in their wandering. Lord, sometimes I still feel lost thinking about the December day I heard of his suicide. I didn't feel you there then. But I wasn't looking. I was brushing your comfort off of my shoulder blade, and pouring out my own tears as an attempt at healing salve. Thank you for Andrew's life. And may his memory glorify you even in his death. Semper Fi. To you, Almighty. Semper Fi to you."